Candles
by AnnaOtaku
Summary: Every year since the final battle at Hogwarts, a memorial service has been held for all those who died because of Voldemort. It is that time once again, and the children of the war's heroes are facing some troubles of their own. HPNG. One shot.


**The idea for this was inspired by the piece HPDH::Where I've Been by Shibby-One on DeviantArt. GO check it out!**

The memorial service was here, once again. Held every year on the last night of the year after the feast, it commemorated all of the brave wizards and witches who died at the hands of Voldemort and his followers.

Lily always cried.

As hard as she tried not to, seeing the looks on the faces of her parents, teachers, friends, was too much for her poor heart to handle. Lily never cried. Not when a bludger broke her arm, not when Collin Finnigan dumped her for Bianca Spinnet, not even when Crookshanks ate her beloved pygmy puff, Stella. But on this one night of the year, those hot, treacherous tears came spilling out.

It made her feel weak.

It was early in the morning-so early that even the paintings were asleep-when Lily snuck out of the Gryffindor common room, broom in hand. The quidditch pitch called to her, empty and tempting. She dashed out the front door, down the sloping hill, until she reached the long stretch of grass, and even longer stretch of sky. Without a second thought, she mounted the broom, kicking off into the silver-blue morning air.

The wind blew back her fiery hair as she sped around the stadium, toes grazing the benches. Of her siblings-or any of her cousins for that matter-she was by far the best flyer. Not as good as her mother or father, mind you, but close. She had been picked as seeker for the Gryffindor team her second year. James had been so proud of her that he had thrown a party in the common room, sneaking butter-beer out of the kitchens.

She climbed higher, higher, trying to feel strong. She dove, the fastest she ever had, trying to feel brave. She leveled out, standing on the broom like a surf board, trying to feel…like her father.

As the stadium rushed by, she shifted footing, tipping the broom. She flew out, landing on the grass, tumbling painfully until she laid on her back, eyes open wide. Her broom landed with a thud a few feet away.

"Nice one, Lils." A soft voice laughed, a tall figure leaning over her. Hugo's messy brown hair partially covered his eyes as he smiled down at his cousin. "You okay?"

She grunted. "Yeah…nothing's broken…" She stayed on her back though, staring at the cloudless sky above her. Hugo raised an eyebrow.

"What are you looking at?" He asked. Lily said nothing, pulling the thirteen-year-old down next to her. He stared at the sky, still unsure of what she was looking at.

Lily remained quiet, one of the only times Hugo Weasley could remember. Lily was a talker. No, to be more precise, Lily was a yeller. She had a nasty temper, and a voice to match. The boys in the family knew not to get on her bad side.

"Okay, what's wrong, Lily? You've never shut up a day in your life. Why the sudden silence?" Turning onto his side, Hugo was shocked to see sadness in his best friend's eyes. Her nose twitched, wrinkling the vast expanse of freckles. She swallowed, then took a deep breath.

"It's a lot to live up to, I guess. The daughter of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley should be strong and brave." She turned to face Hugo, picking at the grass on the pitch. Hugo looked confused, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

"You are brave. You are strong. You're a Gryffindor, Lils. A lioness." She smiled weakly, lowering her eyes.

"I hate crying," She stated softly. His eyes grew wide with understanding, and he pulled his favorite cousin into an awkward hug.

"Aw, Lily. You're worried about crying at the Memorial Service." He chuckled, and she punched him on the shoulder.

"It's not funny! Al and James don't cry. The sons of the Boy-Who-Lived are strong. The daughter should be, too!"

She stood up, starting to storm off. Hugo got up, hurrying after her. She had already collected her broom and was halfway across the pitch when he caught up with her. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him.

"Lils. Lily. Lily!" She stopped struggling, and turned to him, glowering. "Lily. I cry too. I mean, I may not be the son of Harry Potter, but my parents were war heroes also. They're strong and brave. And so am I. So are you." He smiled at her gently, wrapping his arms around her. "It's okay to cry, you know. It doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're kind." She broke away from him, a small smile on her lips.

"Really?"

"Really."

The two cousins, close as twins, walked back towards the castle in silence, enjoying the fresh summer morning, and the fact that they could, in fact, enjoy it, unlike so many before them.

The sun was bright above them.

* * *

An odd grouping sat by the lake, soaking up the warmth of the sweet summer day. Roxanne Weasley, her mocha colored skin already noticeably more freckled than it had been all year, stretched out, head in Lorcan Scamander's lap. His blonde hair blew playfully in the wind, as did his twin, Lysander's.

"Look! I think I saw a tentacle!" Lorcan said dreamily, pointing towards the water. Roxanne was too comfortable to move, and just mhmm-ed in return.

"So, Mum's coming in for the Memorial Service. How about your family, Roxi?" Lysander asked, doodling aimlessly in a sketch book. Roxanne shrugged.

"They always do. It means the world to Dad. Getting to remember Fred and all." The boys nodded solemnly, having heard the story of her Uncle's death.

"It's always too sad for me. Makes me all depressed. Not a nice feeling at all." Lorcan stroked Rox's hair, kissing her forehead. She smiled, eyes still closed. She had attached herself to Lorcan Scamander her second year, and they had been together ever since. Her mum had always joked that the Johnson women had a thing for twins.

"Yes, that is always Dad's only complaint. Too serious. Uncle Fred would've wanted someone to blow something up in his memory." The boys laughed, then continued gazing into the murky water of the lake. Roxanne twirled a flower between her finger before sticking it behind her boyfriend's ear. Blue, for Ravenclaw. He waved his wand at the ground, producing a brilliantly colored rose, handing it to Roxi. Gold, for Gryffindor.

Houses weren't something they worried about much. They made it work. And on top of that, Lysander was a Hufflepuff. The three of them were still best friends, still just teenagers. To them, the division was as important to them as what color socks the others were wearing.

"Well, maybe James and your brother can liven things up a bit," Lorcan said, smiling. Roxanne laughed.

"Oh, yes. Leave it to those two to do something stupid. Just as Uncle Fred would want it."

* * *

Teddy Lupin loved Hogwarts. It was his second home. Though he had not lived there for years, just walking through the gates gave him a rush of nostalgia and a sense of belonging. He knew that must be how Harry felt whenever he visited.

Victoire clung tightly to his hand, smiling as they walked across the grounds. Though she too loved the school, it didn't have the same effect on her as with him. She had grown up with both of her parents, and two younger siblings. Teddy never had that.

Not that he hadn't been happy, growing up. He had been. But it wasn't the same. He had been raised by his Grandmother until the age of eight, when she passed away. Harry, his godfather, and Ginny took him in, as young as they were, and raised him until he was old enough to go to Hogwarts. He spent every summer with them, watching their kids grow up as if they were his own siblings. But it still wasn't the same. He belonged at Hogwarts. It was his real home. Victoire would never understand that.

They reached the Great Hall, where the students were all eating lunch happily. Spotting her younger brother, and secret favorite sibling, Victoire hurried over to the Ravenclaw table, shouting, "Louis! Louis!" Teddy smiled after her, then looked back at his own house's table, spotting the middle Delacour-Weasley child. Her strawberry blonde hair was cut into a short bob, much to her mother's dislike. Of the three children, she was most like a Weasley.

"Hey, Dom! Dominique!" He sat next to her, causing her to jump with fright. Realizing who it was, she smiled and hugged him tightly.

"Teddy!" He hugged her back, laughing.

"Hey, kiddo. Where's Roxi?" He asked, looking for the girl's best friend.

"With her boyfriend. Trying to make up for all the time they lost during finals." They both laughed, rolling their eyes.

"So…I have a question, Dom. A very serious one." Teddy's voice got low, and the girl nodded quickly, her face solemn.

"What?"

"If…if I ask Victoire…to marry me…do you think she'll say yes?" Dominique took one look at the boy before squealing.

"YES! Of course she will!" Half of the table turned to find the source of the noise, including most of the Weasley family. Teddy didn't have time to say anything else before he was swarmed by his "cousins".

Dominique just smiled. Of course Victoire would say yes. She was in love with Teddy. It was her dream to marry him. The fourth year looked at the smile that refused to leave Teddy's lips, and sighed. The orphan, the adopted cousin, the boy who never met his parents, was finally getting a real family of his own.

The thought warmed the girl's heart, and she just kept eating her sandwich, occasionally sneaking glances at her sister. She would look so lovely in white.

* * *

Molly and Lucy ran down the hall, chasing their older cousin. "Al! Albus! Wait up!" The dark-haired boy stopped, picking both up in each arm. For such a small fifteen-year-old, he was strong. Wrestling with your family members did that to you.

"What's the matter, munchkins?" He asked, twirling around. They giggled, stumbling dizzily as he set them down.

"What's the memorial service for?" He knew the question was coming, but it still shocked him a little that Uncle Percy had never explained it to his daughters.

"Well, you know how that evil wizard Voldemort tried to take over the world, when our parents were kids?" They nodded sadly. "Well, this service is to commemorate all of the people who died because of them."

The girls looked down, sadly. "Like Uncle Fred?"

Albus nodded. "Yes. Like Uncle Fred. And Uncle Harry's parents. And Teddy's parents." The girls looked so sad, that Al couldn't resist adding. "And Uncle George's ear."

The giggled, Molly asking, "What?!"

He smiled, tickling her. "You heard me. Uncle George's ear. Haven't you always wondered why he never had one? It got blasted off."

Lucy frowned. "You're lying."

"Nope. Rest in peace, George's ear! We will never forget you!" The middle Potter child shouted, much to the amusement of the girls.

"Potter! What's with all this commotion?" Headmistress McGonnagal walked past, a disapproving look on her face.

"Just lamenting the loss of my Uncle's ear, Professor." Albus said a bit shamefully, blushing.

She observed the two girls with him, and smiled. "And what a fine ear it was. I never saw a finer one in my life. Now off you go, you don't want to miss lunch. Your god brother and cousin are there now, I do believe." Albus and the girls smiled, rushing off.

"Thanks, Professor!"

She said nothing, but smiled sadly after them. Years before, when she had first taught the Weasleys, she thought she would want to retire by the time their children entered the school. But now, as she watched them run off, she found herself happy that there were so many of them.

* * *

Rose Weasley often wondered why people hated Slytherin so much. Her cousin, Albus, was a Slytherin, and he was the sweetest person she knew. And his best friend, Scorpius, was alright, she guessed. He was a bit too quiet for someone with her loud upbringing, but he was one of the few people in their grade who rivaled her intelligence.

Her Aunt Ginny liked to joke that Albus, Scorpius, and Rose were the new "Golden Trio", and one day they would have action figures made of them, too(Uncle George had made a fortune selling those). Rose thought that would be fun(after all, she and those two had gotten into some serious trouble together), but she made a point to tell her Aunt that if that were true, Albus would not be the leader like his father. She herself would take that initiative; Albus was too nice and Scorpius was too quiet.

The sun was setting behind the hill as she walked towards the oak doors, bushy hair pulled back from her face. As she approached the doors, she saw a figure crouched behind a suit of armor.

"Scorpius Malfoy. Now what would a fine gentleman like yourself be doing hiding when there's a memorial service to go to?" Rose asked, squatting down next to him. She frowned, seeing a black eye starting to form on his pointed face.

"No one wants me there," He said flatly, not meeting her eye. She pouted, pulling out her wand.

"That's not true, Scorp." With a flick of her wrist, the bruise disappeared from his face. He still didn't look at her, eyes dark with shame.

"Yes it is. A group of Gryffindors just cornered me, threatening to do worse if I set a foot near the service."

Rose's face flushed with anger. "That's horrible! Who were they? I'll have James go after them, you'll see-"

He cut her off, waving his hand. "It's not just them. I've never been to one of these things. People give me awful looks, telling me I don't belong."

"You do belong, Scorp. You're not a death eater."

He snapped. "But I'm the son of one, Rose! My family has hurt so many people! My aunt tortured Professor Longbottom's parents and killed your uncle's godfather! _My grandfather tortured your mother_! I don't belong there. No one wants me there."

Rose scooted closer, cupping his face with her hand. Speaking softly, she stared into his grey eyes lovingly. "That's not true. I want you there."

He paused, then kissed her lightly on the lips. She kissed him back, running her hand through his white-blonde hair. They stayed that way for what felt like an eternity, and broke apart after what felt like no time at all. Smiling, they walked hand-in-hand out to the Quidditch pitch, where the entire school was gathering. To them, they weren't a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. They weren't a Malfoy and a Weasley. They were Scorpius and Rose.

They were happy.

* * *

It was getting dark, the last lights of the sun disappearing into the vast expanse of black. The entire Potter-Weasley family had gathered in a small clump in the front of the group, candles in hand. One by one they lit them with their wands, the older students helping the younger.

Albus, Lily, and James stood in the middle, gathered together. Their mother and father stood on a newly-erected podium, with their Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron. Professor Longbottom was up there too, along with Lysander and Lorcan's mother, Luna. Many others stood behind them, all holding candles. From where he stood, Harry Potter winked at his children.

He moved up to speak, and the crowd grew hushed. "We are here tonight to remember the dead. Those who died as victims, those who died as heroes. We are here to remember them, and why they died. Voldemort was an evil man, yes, but it wasn't just him. His followers killed many-most-of the brave witches and wizards we are here to mourn." Scorpius looked down, ashamed. Rose tugged on his hand, smiling.

"And for what? Because they were different? Because they were muggle-borns, because they didn't believe in pure wizarding families? This night isn't only for remembering them, it is to teach us to love each other. It is to teach us to break down the walls between muggle-borns and pure-bloods, Gryffindors and Slytherins." Lily nudged Albus, winking. James ruffled his hair lovingly.

"So please, when you leave tonight, remember. Remember. Remember that we aren't all so different. That we are all made of flesh and blood. We all hurt. We all breath. We all love." Teddy kissed Victoire's head, and Dominique squeezed his hand in excitement. Roxanne pecked Lorcan on the cheek, and Lysander ruffled her hair.

"Now, let's light the candle." He motioned towards the large, phoenix-shaped candle on a stand in the front of the stage. Wands lit, the witches and wizards on stage all ignited the memorial candle.

"This is going to be good," James whispered excitedly to Fred, bumping fists. Rose smacked him on the arm.

"You didn't!"

"Oh, we did." He smiled mischievously. Roxanne thumped her brother on the back of the head, scowling.

"How could you?!"

"Shh. Just wait for it." They all turned to the flaming phoenix, which had risen into the air, singing a haunting tune. As always, it flew up into the sky. But, instead of disappearing, it exploded into a million bright fireworks. As they flashed, the faces of different witches and wizards lit up across the sky, their names underneath. Grandma and Grandpa Potter appeared, smiling down on everyone. James kissed the top of Lily's head, who had burst into tears. Hugo wrapped an arm around her shoulder, a tear lingering on his cheek.

Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks were next, and Dom wrapped her arms around Teddy's waist. He patted her head, then got down on his knee, a holding a ring up to Victoire. She gasped, nodding. Dom and Louis clapped excitedly as the couple kissed passionately under the flashing lights.

Sirius Black laughed down on the crowd, winking. Scorpius looked up in awe, then jumped as Rose pulled him into a long, deep kiss. James gagged, and Hugo looked like was going to puke.

The names and faces flashed by, and the crowd smiled and cheered. Harry eyed his eldest son knowingly, smiling in approval. George Weasley gave his son a thumbs up, and even his wife smiled at the boys's accomplishment.

Fred Weasley I suddenly loomed over everyone, laughing. Albus ruffled Molly's and Lucy's hair, whispering, "He's laughing because he just jinxed George's ear up in Heaven." The two girls were overcome with giggles, and Albus had to join in.

As he stood there, next to his brother and sister, their father came back up, announcing, "It's time to set the candles free."

All at once, people let go of their candles, letting them float up in the sky towards the laughing face of Fred Weasley. The fireworks dispersed, and the dark night sky was filled with tiny points of light, outshining the stars. They floated up, following an unknown path, until they were far into the distance.

Harry stood at the podium one more time, to say, "The path will be rough, the way unclear, but there is always a light to guide you through the dark. Let the memory of these people be yours."


End file.
